A Highly Personal Challenge
by sierra.steinbrecher
Summary: What would Sherlock deduce about you? This is a challenge to all the fans of Sherlock's brilliant mind, to write what you think Sherlock would glean about you from a single look. Further details are inside, I own only myself.


**What would Sherlock see about you?**

**This is a challenge to all the Sherlock fans out there who would like to try their hands at deductions. Look at yourself and try to find the clues Sherlock would use to read your life like a book. Feel free to use whatever format or method of delivery you like, but there are a few criteria.**

**1. You must use real facts and details about yourself.**

**2. ****2. ****"There's always something!" that Sherlock misses, so include it.**

**3. ****3. ****Make the situation believable. If Sherlock explains it out loud, why?**

**4. ****4. ****Oh, and you have to shoot me a PM so I can read it! Although I would love if you would publish it as an actual story so others could enjoy it. On that note...**

**5. Mention where the idea came from. We all need a little extra publicity.**

* * *

Sherlock raked his eyes over the possible neighbor for the flat upstairs. "English or history?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Really, no introduction?"

He raised his own curved brow in return, wondering if she could possibly get it higher than him. The muscle built up on her forehead gave an answer and he filed it away in the new 'Sierra' room in his mind palace. "Don't really think you need one."

The other eyebrow joined its companion near her hairline. "Yes, but I might."

"How could someone so simple need an introduction?"

Then, she did something he hadn't expected. She snorted at him. "Of you. I need to know at least something about you, even if you've read me like a book."

Hi eyebrow arced up further. "I have. So, English or history, which did you study?"

She crossed her arms. "Mind telling me the thought processes that narrowed it down to those two choices?"

He smirked. Well, if she insisted. "You're using a backpack, not a purse. That says college student, needs something to carry books. However it's sloped, not angular, so no books. But you haven't broken the habit yet, so recently graduated, probably from a religiously affiliated school judging from the cross earrings and quote from Pope John Paul II on your T-shirt. The fact that the quote is from the Pope and not the Bible means it's a Catholic shirt, meaning that either you are Catholic or are affiliated with someone who is. The second, not likely or it would be buried in the bottom of your drawer. So, Catholic it is."

Her eyebrows had gone down and she looked fairly interested now. Well, he hadn't said anything John would call offensive yet, so she probably wouldn't be swearing at him if he ended here. Still, when did he ever stop halfway through his dramatic moments? "So, what did you study? Not theology, you'd move somewhere more predominantly Catholic if that were the case. London's Protestant. The cuffs on your jeans are shredded, probably from stepping on them. So either you don't care about how you look or don't have the money for new ones. The cheap material of your earrings says the later. So not anything to do with computers or engineering, those jobs have a higher payroll."

She nodded, both at his statement and urging him to continue. Funny, she didn't think he was rude to insinuate that she was poor. He went on. "Nothing in the sciences either, you don't smell of chemicals, so that leaves the arts. Performance work is out, you'd take better care of your hair. Also no makeup. Add to that the lack of heels and it's clear you're not a businesswoman. That leaves history or English. So, which is it?"

She smiled at him. "English. But I actually love the arts, especially singing and acting. I'm trained in both."

His puzzlement showed and she smiled at him. "Just because I don't put on makeup every day doesn't mean I can't clean up nice. And you also forgot the family."

"What family?" He spluttered out as he followed her up the stairs from his flat to the door of hers.

She opened the door and stepped through. "I have five little sisters and one brother. Surely you could see that, Sherlock Holmes?" and she shut the door, leaving him a little dazed.

Then he angrily muttered to himself, "There's always something!" and stalked back down the stairs to a grinning John. The former military man very much liked their new neighbor. Perhaps she could sing the lyrical line when Sherlock got out the violin.

**Well, there's my attempt. Now try your hand at it.**


End file.
